


David of the Dead

by spiffymittens



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Drama & Romance, F/F, F/M, Gen, Horror, M/M, Multi, Romance, Suspense, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27327151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffymittens/pseuds/spiffymittens
Summary: Prompt:Dawn of the Dead AUEveryone hides out in the café and Rose Apothecary while hordes of zombies roam the town.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16
Collections: Schitt's Creek Trick Or Treat





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCTrickOrTreat](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCTrickOrTreat) collection. 



> This is a horror story, so there will be graphic depictions of gore and violence. Click to read the notes at the end of this chapter for some minimally spoilery reassurances if you're worried about this fic triggering you.
> 
> This fic is finished and will be updated at least once a day, so buckle up! I wanted to have the editing done by the author reveals, but real-life events are conspiring against me.

“Could you stop trying to make me feel better about this?” David slammed the clipboard down on the counter. “I fucked up, and I deserve to wallow.”

“Yeah, and while normally I’d love to let you, I have to be in the same store with you until we’re done with inventory, so quit being a downer,” said Stevie, still writing on her own clipboard with infuriating calm. “People make mistakes; it happens.” 

“Ooh, who made a mistake?” said Alexis, emerging from behind the curtain. “David, can we add these vanilla candles to the raffle basket? I just checked and you have, like, tons.”

“Don’t we already have like $200 worth of product in that basket? I need to actually sell some of this stuff to all those Singles Week people.” 

“Yeah, but if I put those vanilla candles in the raffle basket, then I’ll have to mention the fact that you carry them in the program and every time I talk about the basket, so more people will know you have them and more people will buy them.” She flipped her hair. “Marketing 101, David, duh.”

“Snort cat litter,” he sniped. “Fine, two candles, but that’s all.”

“Thank you,” Alexis said, booping his nose. She turned to Stevie, her eyes avid. “Now what’s this about a mistake?”

David glared at Stevie, daring her to answer. Stevie rolled her eyes and turned back to Alexis. “Oh, nothing, really. Just the end of the whole world. David flipped two numbers on the bank deposit slip a few days ago, so Patrick had to go to the bank in Elmdale to fix it, and now David thinks Patrick’s going to dump him over it.”

Alexis tsked. “Don’t be silly, David. Your lil button is ridiculously into you.” Her smile was oddly brittle. “He’s not going anywhere.” 

David groaned and buried his face in his hands. “You don’t know that.” They hadn’t seen Patrick’s face when he found out about the bank error at the end of a long day. The way he had visibly struggled to tamp down his annoyance. The way he had sighed and rolled over in bed later, a silent signal that he was in no mood for sex. The worst part of it was that he hadn’t looked surprised. More like resigned.

Honestly, David was amazed it had taken Patrick this long to realize what an irresponsible fuck-up he was. They’d been together almost a year, but there was no way Patrick would want to be with him long-term. It was for the best, really, even though the thought of Patrick breaking up with him felt like a gut punch. 

“Oh my god, _stop it_ with the sadface shit,” Stevie finally broke in. “You get on my nerves too, yet here I am, doing inventory with you so Patrick could go to the bank—and he offered your dad a ride since they were both going to the bank, by the way, which is, like, the opposite of what someone does when they’re about to dump you. And hey, at least you have someone in the first place. So can you evict the pity party and help me count all this shampoo?”

“Ugh, fine,” said David. “Let’s get this done as fast as we can. Alexis, you could stand to help.”

“Mmhmm, just a minute,” Alexis was smiling softly at her phone, thumbs flying as she texted. “You guyyyys, Ted has the cutest puppies for the adoption event!” 

David and Stevie shared a silent grimace. Alexis had told David she was still in love with Ted six months ago, but he’d thought she had moved past him by now. But this Singles Week event had put them back in the same orbit, and Alexis was spending far too long “helping” Ted plan it.

He cast about for something to distract Alexis from her phone, but was saved the trouble a few seconds later when Stevie glanced out the front window.

“Oh my god, is that guy drunk or something? He looks _trashed,_ ” she said.

David and Alexis joined her at the front window. The man was still a block away, staggering down the middle of Main Street. He was paunchy and middle-aged, and his outfit was unremarkable office wear: a button-down shirt and tie tucked into navy slacks. David felt the first prickle of unease in the back of his mind. Because, sure, maybe the guy was drunk or high, but who leaves their tie perfectly tied and their shirt tucked in when they're on a bender? And 10 a.m. was way too late for a walk of shame.

As the man listed past Bob’s Garage, the town dog, Red, trotted around the corner. Red slept with George, the cafe cook, when the weather was bad, but otherwise he belonged to everyone, going from person to person for pets or a bite of food, always sure of his welcome. Patrick often fed him bits from his tuna melt when they ate lunch outside at the cafe, scratching his shaggy mane extravagantly as Red enjoyed the unexpected bounty. 

Red bounced up to the man, tail wagging, but froze about ten feet away. His shaggy ears flattened and he crouched down, growling. The man turned to him, face blank as if he were sleepwalking, and lurched toward the dog, one hand raised as if to pet him. Red held still for a second, whining, then dribbled a little piss on the street and ran, flat-out.

Stevie reached out and took David’s hand. “I don’t think he’s drunk,” she said quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

The man stood in the middle of the intersection, watching Red run away, and now he was close enough for David to see that something was definitely off. His skin had a grayish cast, his mouth sagged open like a man asleep and his eyes were blank and cloudy. His pale blue shirt was grubby, and one leg of his navy slacks was stiff and shiny with some substance David frankly didn't even want to identify.

Except he knew what it was. He knew the man wasn't staggering because he was drunk. Because the dark patch on his slacks had a larger, ragged hole in the middle of it, as if some animal had worried at it. As the man turned to follow Red, David caught a glimpse of his calf through the hole. Whatever had chewed up his pants had gotten to his leg too, and David could see the dull gleam of bone through the wound. 

Stevie sucked in a sharp breath beside him. "Oh my god, he's hurt! He must be in shock." But she didn't move to help him, and David knew she felt it too, that nagging sense of something not quite right.

She wasn't the only one. Ronnie, Bob and Roland were all sitting motionless in folding chairs just outside the big bay door of the garage, watching the stranger. Beside him, Stevie made to reach for her phone, maybe to call an ambulance, but her hand fell away. Because just then, down the street from the same direction where the first man came from, another lurching figure crested the hill. Then another. 

Alexis crept to the front door and calmly twisted the lock. "David, turn the lights out," she said softly. "Don't make any noise, and walk slowly." David blinked at her for a second. He knew Alexis wasn't just the daffy, bubbly young woman other people saw, that underneath her floaty dresses and teasing smile was a layer of flinty bedrock. He'd heard flashes of it in her voice when she called him from Uzbeki prison cells, when she asked Heather Warner for an exclusive contract.

But now it was all he could see as she stood at the door, eyes narrowed at the thin, balding man in the square. "David, I mean it," she said. "Slowly." 

So David eased back from the window and around the cash counter, then flipped the lights out and held his breath. The man didn't notice. As David sagged against the counter in relief, his elbow bumped against the clipboard, which knocked the mason jar full of twig pencils off the edge.

The glass jar shattered like a bomb, the noise deafening in the unnatural stillness of the April morning.

"Fuck! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he whisper-yelled, fists clenched by his ears. The bloody stranger turned, almost casually, and began drifting toward Rose Apothecary as if he were making the rounds at a holiday party. He raised one hand and pressed it gently against the glass, cocking his head curiously. This close, David could see the reddish-brown stains on his fingers and around his mouth, flecked across the front of his shirt. His name tag said Troy. Alexis and Stevie backed away from the front of the store, their shoes crunching through the shards of glass. 

"What is that thing?" Stevie said, her voice trembling. "What the fuck is that thing?"

Alexis took hold of her bicep and guided her carefully around the side of the cash counter until they were all crowded close to David.

"Mmkay, I don't want you all to freak out or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's a zombie."

David whipped around to stare at his sister. "What? There's no such—zombies are not a real thing!"

Alexis grimaced sympathetically. "Sorry, babe, but they kind of are. Like five or six years ago I was with some friends in Antigua, and they totally had a zombie outbreak. There was an American Air Force base nearby, and they sent out troops to deal with it. It took, like, a week to clear them out. It was all _very_ hush-hush." She pursed her lips impishly, a bit of her normal personality peeking through. "We got to hole up at Giorgio Armani's compound in the meantime, and his valet let me have _so many_ sample dresses."

"Who the fuck cares about the dresses?" David hissed. "Tell us about the zombies!"

"God, David! I mean, they're basically like what you've seen in the movies. Not that smart, slow-moving." She paused, choosing her next words with care. "Um, don't let them bite you? Because then, well..."

"Yeah, got it," said Stevie. "But we don't have Giorgio Armani's compound to hide out in, so what are we supposed to do now?" Her eyes were huge in her chalk-white face, but she wasn't panicking. Neither was he, David realized with some surprise. It was as if a curtain had closed over his terror, and if he could just...keep it closed, maybe he'd get through this. But god, he wished Patrick were here. Patrick would know what to do. 

"Should we call the police?" David said. "Like, it feels like the police or somebody should know about this, shouldn't they?"

"God, if they'd even believe us," Stevie said, watching in fascinated horror as the man pawed at the window, leaving long reddish smears ( _Don't think about what it is, don't think about it_ ) on the glass, then turned away, distracted by a car driving by. "Do you think they'll believe us?"

Just then, a piercing emergency alert blared from their phones. David snatched his from his pocket and silenced it, but the man—god, the _zombie_ —turned back to them anyway, interested anew. David took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore the creature so he could read the message.

_**EMERGENCY ALERT / ALERTE D’URGENCE  
** This is a Province of Ontario emergency bulletin which applies to people within twenty (20) kilometres of Schitt’s Creek and Elm Valley. An infectious disease outbreak has been reported at the National Microbiology Laboratory branch in Elm Valley. Victims are highly infectious and aggressive to others. Some have been spotted traveling in the direction of Schitt's Creek. DO NOT APPROACH. Seek well-reinforced shelter with enough food and water for a week. Remain tuned to local media for further information and instructions._

Stevie laughed, a thin, hysterical warble. "Aggressive to others, huh? You don't say." 

Across the street, Ronnie, Roland and Bob were huddled around Ronnie's phone, reading the same message. Just then, two more zombies shambled into the intersection, attracted by the alarms on their phones. Both were wearing blood-splattered lab coats. The one on the right, a woman, was missing her left arm below the elbow.

"Oh no. No no no no no," Stevie whispered.

The zombies got closer and closer to the garage, and still the trio hadn't seen them. Stevie sprinted forward, skidding across the twig pencils, and pounded both palms flat on the window. "Hey!" she yelled. "Hey! Ronnie! Ronnie, look up! Hey zombies, come this way!" She smacked the glass frantically, again and and again, so hard David was afraid it would break, but the new zombies didn't turn around. Finally, when they were only 10 feet or so from the trio, Ronnie looked up. She shouted, grabbed both men by the arms, and dragged them back inside.

The big bay door rumbled to life and began to drop, but it wasn't going fast enough. The zombies were going to get in. Stevie shouted and slapped at the glass over and over, but it didn't make a difference. She was too far away, too quiet behind the glass. Suddenly, only a few feet away from the garage door, both zombies stopped and turned around as a much louder scream and crash rent the air.

Unnoticed, the garage door finished closing as the zombies shuffled toward their new target. 

David pressed his face against the window, trying to see what it was they were looking at.

And saw his mother, standing all alone out front of the Cafe Tropical, her wrought iron chair overturned beside her as she screamed and screamed and screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be some minor (non-graphic) injuries to main characters and one minor character death (not described in detail). No ships will be broken up, and there will be a happily ever after. The dog will be okay.


End file.
